Eyes of Gold
by FeatheredMask
Summary: The trio and their Weapons receive a mission to protect Harry Potter from the newly revived Voldemort. Hilarity and many headaches for our favorite characters to come. Oh? Grim Reapers count as magical creatures?
1. Introducing

_This chapter has been edited as of 10/1/14_

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

A bird, settled on a perch, meticulously preened their golden plumage, unsatisfied until each feather was tucked away into the pattern, ends curling like tongues of fire. A few loose feathers floated down to the table, one landing on an old tome.

Blue flashed from the other side of the room, but the majestic bird continued preening. There was a shout, and the feather was snatched from the tome. The tome was also snatched up, and a white glow washed over the cover.

"You know how valuable this tome is, Fyre," the bird's bonded berated. "This is perhaps one of four in known existence; I won't have a stray phoenix feather turn it to ash!"

The phoenix simply let out a string of chirps before hopping on his head and tugging a brown lock of hair. The mage sighed. Fyre trilled in mirth.

"Sorry, but I can't go on an 'epic adventure' with you right now," he said. "My apprentice has gotten himself caught in the expelled gas of a poisonous plant, and there are no healers in the area."

He plucked a vial off the desk and placed the phoenix back on its perch. He chantede an low incantation, and the air in front of him ripped open. He physically stretched it wider with his hands, revealing a dense rainforest. Snores like the honks of a dying elephant could be heard. He stepped through, the portal closing behind him.

The phoenix huffed in indignation, ruffling their feathers.

They burst into flames, very nearly setting the ancient book on fire. The fire died, the perch unharmed. On top of a bookcase, fire flared to life, a phoenix with it. They made grumpy noises, and resumed preening the soot from their feathers. Their master always forgot a phoenix could travel magically.

Bored, Fyre vanished in a puff of fire, appearing elsewhere with equal magnificence. The setting was similar, although with slight differences. The office had a lighter feel to it, and more tiny whizzing contraptions, but no runes or ingredients cluttered the desk and shelves. Muttering caught the phoenix's attention, and they glanced upward to see the walls lined with portraits, the inhabitants chatting between frames, reading, or sleeping. They squawked, and more than a few paintings jumped up and peered curiously at this foreign bird.

Another chirp followed a flare of fire. Fyre craned their neck toward the sound on the other side of the desk. Another elegant phoenix, the feathers curling in a different style, chirped at Fyre. The head looked more kind, mess intimidating. The claws were less noticeable, not like Fyre's, which dug into the side of the desk. They were the same type of magical bird, but the differences spoke of how differently time had affected them.

They trilled songs to fill the silence; the new phoenix sounding like a warm hug and chocolate milk, Fyre sounding like crystal chimes and the rumble of a volcano.

It was a conversation between two magical creatures, one none but the bonded and another of magic could translate. It ended with a squawk from Fyre, and they looked sly while the other phoenix was disgruntled, but vanished anyway.

Fyre didn't waste time admiring the room. Instead, they vanished in a display of fire.

-And reappeared in a modern Japanese-style house. A black cat napped in the corner, stirring at a trill of notes from Fyre.

"Fyre? What're you doing here?" the cat asked, in a masculine voice unexpected of her gender.

Fyre chirped away, telling her part of their plan. Once they finished, the cat shook her head.

"Sorry, no can do. We're on the brink of war here, can't afford to delay any preparations."

Fyre chirped an acceptance and polite apology while the cat licked her paws. The door slid open, and a pair of clogs walked in.

"Ah, Fyre. What brings you here?"

Fyre trilled and flew atop the man's head, pecking at one of the white stripes on his green hat.

"Fyre wanted us to send a few fighters to a school to train them in a different art, but we can't spare any with war on the horizon," the cat translated.

The man smiled and cooed at the phoenix. "So the phoenix is bored? I suppose you would be, being older than me. I've still got a ways to go before I run out of personal experiments. Perhaps we'll take up your offer after winter."

He laughed at his own joke and walked over to pick up the cat, his clogs clacking on the floorboards. Fyre flared in flames and disappeared, leaving the man to worry if his hat was burnt.

Fyre appeared in yet another setting. They spent a total of three seconds staring at the fanged sparkling pixie before vanishing yet again.

Their next appearance took place at an odd location. Clouds floated all along and the barren ground covered in gravestones stretched endlessly, even if they knew it was inside. A single, tall mirror stood in the center of a giant stone dias.

Fyre trilled a greeting and settled on an outstretched arm, their claws stabbing holds into the black fabric.

"Hello, Fyre. I apologize if you wanted to speak with Father. He's not here at the time, as you can see."

Fyre trilled, a happy note.

A chuckle. "Well then, if I'll do. What is the message?"

Fyre chirped its plan.

"Witchcraft?"

A hurried string of chirps.

"So it's different, then. Of course. I just need to tell my father and we'll be off. It's been a while since I've cast a spell. I wonder how much the 'wizard' world has changed."

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><p>I don't own any but Fyre in this chapter.<p>

There aren't many hints to who anyone is, but oh well, that's fine. Fyre started in the World of Warcraft world. It went to Hogwarts, then to the Bleach world, as you might have realized from the talking cat and Mr Hat 'n' Clogs. Next was Twilight (fanged sparkly thing), then at last to the object of our story: Soul Eater.

Fyre is genderless. Thus, the singular 'they'. I dislike writing females too much, but I feel like I'm betraying my gender that way, and thus, genderless.


	2. Why is the Moon White?

_Edited as of 11/07/14_

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><p><strong>Eyes of Gold<strong>

Seven teens stood scattered along the sidewalk, half of them leaning against the fence separating the street from the park. They appeared to vary in ages, the youngest two looking to be about twelve and thirteen, the tallest maybe seventeen. The tall girl stared at the moon, a soft smile on her lips. It was the smile of a shy, kind girl. Beside her horizontal on the pavement was the youngest boy, doing one-handed push-ups. His mouth moved in numbers of the three digits, but he maintained a steady rhythm with little divergence. Dumbledore found himself amazed; most wizards thought physical exercise beneath them. Then there was the hair of that boy! If he was muggle, he had dyed it; if he was a wizard, then Tonks would be ecstatic at meeting another metamorphagus.

Another pair, both the same age, seemed to be having a staring contest. The girl appeared normal, and the boy might have if not for the shark-like teeth - he was albino, signaled by the white hair and red eyes, and although uncommon, the muggle world accepted it as possible.

The girl turned around as he approached the group, and the boy noticed her line of vision. Dumbledore smiled, but they didn't move. The girl stared, while the boy raised an eyebrow, apparently more interested in mentally criticizing his fashion sense. An edge of caution to their stances, they were still. Waiting.

The last three teens grouped together were two girls and a last figure. The youngest out of all of them sat on the ground, humming as she rubbed an orange crayon over a giraffe in a coloring book. An older girl, wearing identical clothing, watched her with an expression of indifference, occasionally glancing at the last figure.

The last of the group disturbed Dumbledore. He wore a flowing cloak, perhaps a magical cloak, as it was a pitch black like nothing and jagged out at the shoulders. More disturbing than the cloak, was the skull mask. He only relaxed as it was a different style than those of Death Eaters, nor decorated as such.

Dumbledore hoped he had been mistaken. Any place named Death City would be horror, and he couldn't condemn any child to live in such a place. A lump grew in his throat as he thought about how Fawkes had told him this group spent their lives training in armed combat. As his steps became audible to the teens, they started to notice him one by one. Finally, the older sister to the one coloring on the ground shook the masked one's shoulder, paying no mind to the spiked cloak, to get his attention. He stepped forward in front of the rest, the identically-clothed girls flanking him on both sides.

"I assume you're the headmaster of Hogwarts?"

His voice was that of a child's, though it held the formal tone of an old wizarding family. Perhaps his family were Death Eaters and he aspired to join them. Judgment would be held, however, as children were fluid and open-minded.

"I am. My name is Albus Dumbledore." He held out his hand, and the child shook it in a formal fashion as an old family would; no friendly firm grip, just hard enough to be steady, no limp fish shake, just long enough to be adequate but not too long as to be uncomfortable. "May I assume you are the team sent from Death City?" It chilled him to think a place named such existed. It gave him a sense of foreboding simply speaking the name. He hoped he had mistaken them. it would be devastating if these children were the ones trained in armed combat. His hopes fell.

"Yes. I am Death the Kid. Is there anyone else who needs to know who we are so we don't have to do this twice?"

"I'll wait for the rest, then," Dumbledore decided. An alias? "Before we move on, would you please remove your mask? An enemy organization wears masks similar to yours, and the others might attack unnecessarily."

The child did so, the hood falling, and Dumbledore mentally sighed in relief. His heart warmed with fond, yet solemn, memories when he saw the intense golden eyes. He smiled, mentally promising he would make this outcast feel welcome.

Dumbledore continued, "We can wait until we're with the rest before introductions. For now, I want you all to read this." He handed a piece of paper to the apparent leader, and waited as it exchanged hands throughout the children. A few eyes widened as the building appeared to them Sounds of awe escaped the mouths of the two youngest. Dumbledore led them in to a warmer setting, inside Grimmauld Place; warm in heating, not in the sense of hearth and home. In to the dining room they shuffled through the narrow hallway, and gathered around the half of the table reserved for them.

An unnerved hush fell over the ground level of the house. The members of the Order of the Phoenix stared in silent confusion, having expected a team of grown wizards, not a group the same age as Molly's younger children.

"I believe introductions are in order," Dumbledore said, as if no rift existed between the groups, and pointed out the names of the Order members.

The cloaked child did the same with his team. Dumbledore frowned. Death the Kid? Blackstar? Soul? Aliases, and they were blatantly obvious about it.

Snape sneered at the newcomers, looking down his thin nose. "Children do not have the capability to protect a child, much less the Potter brat."

Blackstar jerked up in the chair he'd chosen on. He opened his mouth, but seemed to remember something and grit his teeth to avoid shouting.

"A phoenix arranged this mission for us, so I apologize that I do not take that as an insult when the phoenix has already judged our capability," Death the Kid smoothly replied, not as ruffled as his teammate.

Momentarily defeated by them, Snape turned his misgivings to Dumbledore. "Why children? Surely, Fawkes could have chosen better candidates."

"Fawkes was only my translator in this arrangement."

Soul interrupted when Snape was about to speak. "You're questioning how competent we are, and you don't even know what it is we can do! Hell, we don't know what you 'wizards' can do, besides the small bit that Kid told us."

Sirius choked on air. "You're-you're _muggles_?"

Blackstar threw up his hands in despair. "I don't even know what that word is! How can I come up with a comeback when I don't even know how I was insulted?"

"We're not muggles, and we're not wizards. We use our power differently," Kid stated.

"Different how?" Moody demanded. "Where are you from, anyway?"

"We are from the DWMA in Death City."

The acronym elicited a few gasps from the wizards, while others were left chuffed.

"I'm sorry, I'm unfamiliar with this 'DWMA'," Dumbledore gingerly said.

"Death Weapon Meister Academy," Kid explained, a bit of pride in his voice, although serious. "The DWMA was designed by my father to train Meisters and weapons to fight Kishins, souls of pure evil that are no longer human. We stay out of the United Kingdom due to conflicts because of the high population density of wizards here, but we were contacted to help you with a Kishin egg."

"You're the 'Meisters', then?" Lupin asked, while Sirius muttered, clearly questioning the group's sanity, "How do you train a weapon?"

Blackstar laughed. "What are you guys, stupid? Meisters need weapons. Kid, Maka, and I are Meisters. The others are weapons."

"How is that possible? What-"

Blackstar interrupted, apparently having been waiting for a question close to the one just asked, "If you wanted a demonstration you could have just asked. Finally, something to do!"

"A demonstration would be best," Tonks chipped in, hoping to diffuse the mood.

"We'll need a bigger space," Maka said. "And move anything you don't want broken."

"That table, for instance," Soul offered, grinning pointedly at the distasteful sneer on Snape's face.

The Order members looked wary, but pulled out their wands. They enlarged the room and minimized the table. As an extra precaution, they cast shields on the walls.

"Wow," breathed Maka.

Kid ignored the cantrips and turned to Maka and Blackstar. "You two against me or free-for-all?"

"Every man for himself," Blackstar chose, grinning.

"No Soul Resonance, partial weapon transformations, or Big Star Wave." Kid grimaced. "That thing hurts."

Blackstar laughed. Maka stomped her foot.

"What about your restriction? No activating the Lines of Sanzu!"

"Obviously."

"Maka, you need to think of something more practical, like his Reaper Arts. But he can't have a restriction; I want him to go all out on me!"

"But-"

"No buts, Maka. You missed your chance."

"Liz, Patty." The girls transformed into guns in Kids hands. All of the wizards leaned forward in interest and shock, only Moody and Snape aware of the dangers of those weapons, and their colleagues shot them curious glances as they stepped back.

They all jumped back when Soul transformed into a wicked-looking scythe, wielded by the dainty Maka with clear expertise. Molly and Arthur looked pale as ghosts. Children! Children who could become dangerous blades! Children who were expected to fight!

Finally, Blackstar juggled two exotic blades joined by a chain, Tsubaki's weapon form.

The ensuring spar left little to the imagination, blowing away expectations. The children displayed quick reflexes, awesome stamina and endurance, and a large threshold for pain. By the time they stopped (it really wasn't long), Blackstar and Maka had a few cuts and were only starting to break a sweat. Molly had fainted. They voted against reviving her, instead levitating her to bed.

"Astounding," Dumbledore breathed, as Kid tossed the guns in the air, the items turning back into the Thompson sisters, the two landing safely on their own feet. Now the wizards knew to be wary of the explosive muggle weapons.

Maka yawned. The rest of the group followed her lead. The simple act seemed to break the wizards out of their stupor, a few chuckling. Yawns echoed through the room,

"I guess the jet lag is starting to catch up," Tsubaki said, in a soft voice. It made Dumbledore wonder if she had said anything at all, her voice only noticeable because of the silence from the yawns.

Lupin led them to their room. Dumbledore was left contemplative from the odd group.

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><p>Kid paced in the rectangular room, clearly agitated. Blackstar and Soul, who had to room with Lord Death's son, both sighed and stated, in unison, "What's wrong."<p>

They knew full well for why he was pacing. They had organized the room and beds as best they could, but they knew it wasn't up to the expectations of an OCD kid who required everything, especially his room, to be symmetrical. Namely, the window was the irritant, as it was two-thirds across the wall and perpendicular to the door. And so, they recited mentally, it was asymmetrical garbage.

"It's the moon," Kid suddenly said, surprising the two. "The moon is making me uneasy."

"Uneasy?" Blackstar asked, incredulous. "You've lived your whole life seeing the moon every night. What about it that's making you weirded out now?"

"He finally realized it was asymmetrical," Soul muttered.

"No... It's...it's white."

"White?"

Curious, Blackstar and Soul dragged themselves from the comfort of their beds to look out the window to find that, indeed, the moon was white. It was fully round, and had no eyes or grinning teeth, very unlike the moon they saw every night in Death City. Half of it appeared faded very slightly.

"What the?"

"My father told me the moon was different, but I had no idea how uneasy it would make me."

Blackstar and Soul noticed the grey splotches covering it, and made the tired note in their tired minds: it was asymmetrical.

"Think about something else. Think of..." Soul thought for a moment. "Dice. Dice are symmetrical, no matter which side."

Kid glanced once more at the moon, then at the exasperated faces of the weapon and Meister. He gave in and trudged to his bed, not fussing over any symmetry other than a mechanical effort to lie symmetrically, discomfort clear on his face.

Soul and Blackstar, too tired to think of more than the thought of symmetry that usually came with hanging around Kid, plopped back into bed.

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><p>I had 'Fumbledore' at one point which I fixed during editing.<p>

Editing has been going on. More chapters to be edited. The ableism and plot holes will be remedied.


	3. Oddx6

Explanations of a few things are at the end. You may have questions about what kind of anime/manga logic I'm going to use, and it's all down there.

_Edited as of 11/08/14. Mostly spelling fixes._

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><p><strong>Eyes of Gold<strong>

The morning started quiet enough. There was a short scuffle before the sun rose, but then it settled as people left and others relaxed. The house dozed in the early morning. Of course, it could never last. The house rubbed its eyes and the sunlight rolled the inhabitants off their beds.

When the red-haired clan plus one shuffled down to breakfast, they found themselves squinting across the table at unfamiliar faces. After a few seconds and the cursory good morning, they left the small talk to the adults and resumed putting omelet in their mouths.

It was when the youngest of those that did not have red hair and had been there for a few weeks noticed something odd did any take any real note of the new occupants. She was the first to ask, "Who are you?"

Of course, she asked the one that stood out to her the most, the one with blue hair. So that may have skewed first impressions.

He stood, rising to a foot taller than he had been while sitting, and announced, "I am the great Blackstar! I'm going to surpass god!"

At this, the boy next to Blackstar twitched, and pulled him back down to his seat. "I'm still tired, so shut up and eat Maka's cooking. Remember, these kids are 'scared' of our school's logo." He snorted, regarding his statement with dry humour. He added in a mock reprimanding tone, as if mimicking an overly-serious authority figure, "Don't scare them."

Blackstar laughed; loud and arrogant. Hermione felt a spike of annoyance at these two kids. The white-haired boy was the same age as her, Blackstar even younger. They managed to say they were better than her and then demeaned her, the nerve! She huffed.

"Scare? How could a logo scare me? You're just being insulting."

The albino shrugged. "Just repeating what Silencio told us. Apparently, you're all scared of skulls. I'm Soul," he added after a moment of silence.

Hermione stiffened. Skulls? What kind of school were they from?

Soul gestured up in a sign of defeat. "See? You froze up at the mere mention of it."

Hermione stared at Soul, struck by how easy she was to read. A call from the kitchen distracted Soul.

"Are Kid, Hermione and Mrs Weasley up yet?" A girl Hermione's age poked her head in the room. Her wheat-colored ponytails waved around as she scanned the room with big green eyes. "I don't know if I should leave the rest of the omelet on the stove- Oh! You must be Hermione. I'll have your breakfast in a minute."

"Urgh..." Hermione looked down the dining table where two identically-clothed girls sat, their heads on the table, omelet forgotten. The one with longer, darker hair rolled her head around. "Can't stay awake, can't sleep. Kid's probably asleep right now after spending the night making the room 'proper'. Stupid asymmetrical bed..."

A plate of omelet was placed in front of Hermione at the table, beside a tall Asian girl and across from Soul. A moment later, the girl from the kitchen sat beside Hermione.

"Hi, I'm Maka," the girl introduced herself as to Hermione. She must have already introduced herself to the Weasleys, as every red-head started complementing her on her cooking when she finished her sentence. Soul and the newcomers smiled at it all; their own version of a complement to their friend.

But Hermione was curious. "Where's Mrs Weasley?"

The tall girl answered, in a quiet voice that made Hermione glad she sat next to her. "She fainted sometime last night while we showed her what skills we have from learning at the DWMA."

"Whash da 'ee doub oo M eh?" Ron asked, the food in his mouth butchering his words.

Hermione gasped. She launched into questions. "You're from the DWMA? Isn't that a military school with an entirely different form of magic? Don't you violate the Statute of Secrecy by revealing yourselves to muggles?"

Maka, Soul, and Blackstar all flinched back at her barrage of questions. The tall girl blinked at the loud outburst, and the two girls jumped.

Soul snapped at her, "Hey! We barely know anything about your world, and yes, it's a military school! Slow down and get your facts clear before assuming everything!"

Hermione recoiled at his tone. Ron dropped his fork. "You can't talk to her like that, jerk!"

Soul opened his mouth to retaliate, but was cut off by the tall girl. "Enough! You can sit here shouting at each other or you can try to settle this without conflict."

Blackstar nodded, more with anger than arrogance or for the sake of agreeing. "Tsubaki's right. Wait until Kid gets down here. He's the only one who knows how to explain things."

"Wow, you sure know how to diffuse an argument." They all looked down the table to see one of the girls that had been asleep; the taller one with longer hair.

Blackstar smirked and said haughtily, "Well, I __am __Blackstar."

The newcomers all groaned, except for Tsubaki, who smiled. Maka perked up.

"Someone's coming down... It's Mrs Weasley."

Blackstar nodded. "Even I can tell. Kid's footsteps wouldn't be 'unsymmetrical' like that."

Hermione stared at the two of them, wondering what they could hear. The sisters, Tsubaki, and Soul all acted like this hypersensitivity was normal behavior.

One of the Weasley twins asked, "Why did Mom faint, again?"

Soul shrugged. "She fainted while we did a demonstration of our abilities for them. She mumbled something about 'children shouldn't have sharp pointy things'. Something about hurting ourselves."

The other twin coughed. "What do you guys do?"

Hermione came back to life with the opportunity to explain something she knew. "Students at the DWMA are trained to capture criminals using muggle weapons they make themselves with magic. They avoid the UK for some reason. They're called 'Meisters' and follow a religious code of conduct."

"Er, English, Hermione?" Ron asked.

She huffed in annoyance. "They fight with swords to capture evil muggles to please their god."

All of them from the DWMA cracked up laughing at her short explanation, even Tsubaki. They laughed til tears ran down their faces.

"What?" Hermione demanded. "What's so funny?"

"It's...I-it's just," Soul gasped out, wiping away the tears as he regained his breath. "You guys have no idea what we do. That's a messed-up version. Trying to please our 'god'? Kid would be insulted."

One of the identical-clothed girls chipped in, still laughing, "Embarrassed, more like. We get a gift basket on the doorstep at least once a week."

Ron's ears went red, and they all were saved when Mrs. Weasley came in. The bags under her eyes warned everyone from saying anything reckless, and she only made any notice of anything when Maka gently placed a plate of omelet in her hands.

"Good morning, Mrs Weasley," Maka greeted.

Mrs. Weasley first looked at the plate, then at Maka. Her eyes widened and her lips quivered.

She whispered, "You're children. How can I let children..." She didn't finish, shaking her head. She sat down and stared blankly at the omelet, starting to pick at it after Maka handed her a fork.

"Yahoo! I was right!"

Tsubaki looked at Blackstar. "What were you right about?"

Blackstar pointed up at the ceiling he was staring at. "I told you Kid missed that shot at me!" Hermione looked up where Blackstar was pointing, at a black scorched mark on the ceiling.

"So he did," Tsubaki agreed, certainly mellow for the topic.

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><p>Harry didn't know what to expect when he arrived at Grimmauld Place after the trial. He supposed he could have predicted that the twins would greet him with chants of "He got off!," Hermione acted as herself, babbling on about her own theories of how the trial went, with Ron proclaiming support for Harry. It was just as expected that Mrs. Weasley would bustle around to set him up with a lavish lunch buffet when the good news was announced. What was not expected out of all of this were the extra guests milling about.<p>

They wore odd clothes and some had such odd hairstyles that Harry often found himself staring. He counted six in all, and they seemed to all be close to one other in their group; in other words, they employed the buddy system. Two of the pairs looked similar in clothing and facial features, but the last two looked nothing alike besides height.

He understood albinism, but blue hair? And was that lady the mother of one of them? She acted like it, even if Harry wondered how old they were.

When they went on to cleaning the house, Harry realized they were like any other wizard, all appearances aside. Some of them complained, others just did the work. The girls in identical clothing (he recognized the getup as something similar to that in Dudley's cowboy movies) showed their quirks most prominently at this moment. Because of this, Harry quickly learned their names: Liz and Patty. Patty concerned herself only with enjoying playing with the darker aspects of the house, the reason why everyone was content to let her draw giraffes at the table. Liz insisted on everything being symmetrical, muttering something about OCD.

It was then that all of the strange newcomers spoke about a seventh member, one that had been there all day. The albino, Soul, went to look for him, and came back half-dragging some teen down the steps. Harry's eyebrows went up when he saw how intense the gold was in his eyes - and that was saying something, as eye color was usually the last aspect he noticed about a person.

The kid was introduced as Death the Kid - and was promptly christened as "Little Death" by the Weasley twins. He appeared haggard, with purple bags under his eyes. According to the others, this wasn't normal behavior, and that he could go days without needing sleep - he'd slept all day. When asked what bothered him, he muttered something to which Liz replied, "You're acting crazier than normal, Kid."

Harry noticed Hermione brimming with questions for them, but every time she opened her mouth and Harry was sure she'd ask a question, one of the new inhabitants would shake their head as if to say, "Not right now."

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><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

I love those shouting matches. So fun to write, as so many different people have so many ways of reacting to situations like this; too many to list and too many I want to include in my stories! People can really do a 180 in an argument. Molly is a good example, but that's become something of a cliche now for her. The demonstration pushed her so far she ended up not screaming. I realized I should change it after a review predicted it. It's way too expected.

Silencio: Dumbledore's name in the atin version of Harry Potter is Silencio. A play on words on the 'dumb' part. Soul can only remember the 'Dumb-' part, but he doesn't want to be rude.

Also, you may have gotten this, but the last few episodes in the anime went differently for this fic. Thus, a few things are different. Lemme clear up my version:

1. The Lines of Sanzu activate when certain power levels are achieved, unlocking a whole boatload of Reaper power. They fade back to half-rings when the power fades. Strong stress, emotion, and training can unlock the Lines, and having strong power in general will keep them unlocked. Decrease in power will lock them again.

2. Black Blood. The 'imp' is the madness inside Soul, only more powerful and given a more sentient form by the Black Blood. Using the Black Blood results in Crazy!Maka with Soul and Maka dancing inside the Black room. If they stop dancing, their souls stop resonating and Maka is pulled back to her body. She has to shove away the remaining madness, while Soul has an internal battle to escape the room before he drowns in Black Blood. They do not resonate with Kid and Blackstar during the madness, or they risk Kid and Blackstar attacking every moving thing in sight.

3. The Enchanted Sword's new 'form' in the anime near the end wasn't well explained, so I see it as a mode of attack that's more like spells that use 'light' magic to attack. Grim Reapers are Gods of Death (which is what they are called in the version of the manga I read), and so it might have devastating effects on Kid. I may end up using the manga version of Tsubaki's weapon forms; they seem very different.

4. Weapon transformation! I've kept that part of the last episode. (Spoilers for anime!) Maka has weapon blood from Spirit, and so can transform into a scythe. She has no particular Meister, and prefers to stay one herself. She uses partial transformations when she's in a pickle, because she isn't quite used to fighting with it yet. Kid can be her Meister when needed, although he hates fighting close-combat with her (scythes are not symmetrical).

****Names I will be using****: Kishin will be what Asura is. Kishin egg will be an evil soul, like what they hunt. Pre-Kishin will be a Kishin egg on the verge of becoming a Kishin. No honorifics; they live in America, not Japan. Weapons are weapons; demon weapons are something like Ragnarok, having eaten human souls before. Demon Twin Guns is a nickname Liz and Patty gained before they met Kid; in other words, it's only a street name. Meister, not technician or whatever the manga calls it. I use Lord Death and Grim Reaper instead of Shinigami-sama and Shinigami.


	4. The Sorting

Disclaimer: I own not Soul Eater nor Harry Potter

_E__dited as of 11/08/14. The first half had more phrasing revisions, the second half mostly spelling._

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><p><strong>Eyes of Gold<strong>

Hermione stared up at the ceiling, wondering what woke her. A moment of concentration found the cause to be some familiar sounds, sounds that felt out of place even though she didn't immediately recognize them. She pulled on a bathrobe and tiptoed to the door to stare, perplexed, at the sight in the hallway.

Death the Kid, one of the newer guests with one of the odder names, was cleaning a picture frame. The portrait didn't mind, asleep as it was. Death the Kid had looked like death warmed over yesterday, yet now, he seemed in perfect health aside from the single-minded determination to clean. He moved onto a decorative table and the small silver statuette on it, taking no notice of Hermione.

Hermione leaned out, the old door whining, and peered down the hall, checking if the sounds of cleaning had woken anyone else. To her surprise, no one else peeked outside.

A floorboard creaked, and Hermione whipped around to see Liz standing in the hall. She too wore a bathrobe, and watched Death the Kid with a blank expression, like a mother making sure her child finished his chores.

Hermione whispered, "How long has he been at this?"

"I'm estimating a few hours," Liz answered,. "Don't worry. He'll be at it only another hour."

Hermione's eyes widened as Death the Kid's gaunt face flashed in her mind. "He needs sleep!" she hissed as loud as she dared. Liz's eyes widened and blinked several times.

"We told you yesterday, Kid doesn't need much sleep. He has OCD. He needs to do this."

Hermione deflated. OCD had been touched on in her curriculum before Hogwarts, and in the past summer she'd read a few tragic stories on how it ruined people's lives.

She settled with asking, "What was wrong with him yesterday?"

Liz shrugged. "We've almost never had to sleep anywhere but the best since Patty and I became his partners. I don't know how he's taking staying in a place like this. He's especially obsessive about where he sleeps. If it's to his liking, he relaxes enough to fall asleep. He could have tired himself out the other night or even come across something that affected him magically. I wouldn't worry about it," she added the last part because of Hermione's wide eyes. "He's fine now, if he's doing this."

Hermione's mouth moved like a fish, hoping to show Liz her thoughts before cementing her idea. "But-but- what about long-term effects and if it's damaging his magic-"

"Liz is right," Death the Kid interrupted. Hermione couldn't keep from gaping at him; hadn't he been focused on cleaning? "I should get more sleep tonight, however."

Liz took the cloth he had been cleaning with, and they returned to their respective rooms without further talk.

* * *

><p>Kid was cleaning. The rest of the Meisters, the wizards, and the weapons sat around the table, watching him as they waited. It was nearing midnight, and Kid was the only one not slapping themselves to keep awake or nursing a cup of coffee. Sirius's way of keeping himself awake consisted of mumbling to no one particular, repeatedly, "How can that kid have so much energy?"<p>

They all jerked up at the sound of the fireplace flaring to life. One glance at the green flames and the form of a figure inside had the Meisters and weapons ready for action. Kid took little notice, and ignored his own weapon's pleading for help. He simply sat at a seat and greeted Albus Dumbledore. At his action, the other Meisters relaxed, and everyone greeted the great wizard.

"Now let's see if I can remember your names," Albus jovially proposed, and pointed to each Meister and weapon in turn as he listed their names, each one nodding as his memory proved impeccable.

"We didn't get much of a chance to discuss what will happen this year last meeting. I wish I could have spoken with the headmaster of your school."

Soul sighed with a chuckle. "You know nothing of the DWMA."

"Hm? Why is that?"

"Soul, that's rude," Maka hissed to Soul. He ignored her. "We can call him, you know."

The wizards exchanged amused glances, and Kingsley explained, "Muggle phones don't work in this building. The magic interferes with your technology."

"You know nothing," Soul repeated. He waved off the wizards. "Kid, if you would do the honors?"

"Certainly," In one fluid motion, Kid waved two identical white wands, shrinking the table and sliding it to the side. He stood and made handsigns that looked similar to small horns to summon a mirror, and several of the wizards jumped back at the purple skull of bight light appearing on the floor. A tall mirror grew from the light. Liz and Patty flanked Kid a little behind, having seen the display many times before. Maka, Blackstar, and Soul, and Tsubaki watched it with wide eyes, as they had seen it a precious few times. Regardless that Kid was their friend, this was a power of their god; something to be revered. A few wizards drew their wands.

As the mirror cleared or static and light, the wizards gathered around. The surface was filled with a bouncing black and white before it slowed enough to reveal a skull mask. "Hey, hello!"

Any further greeting was cut off by a strangled shout and shattering of the mirror. The remains of the mirror retracted into the design on the ground, and blinked out of sight. Kid doubled over and fell to his knees, gritting his teeth in pain.

"Kid!"

"What did you do that for!" Blackstar demanded of Mundungus, the quivering wizard whose wand still fizzled from the spell.

The wizards were pale, their faces grave and shocked. Mundungus shivered, clutching his wand close. He muttered, "We've been found, we're all going to die." At Blackstar's shout, he yelled, eyes bulging, "That was a Death Eater! How could you reveal us to a Death Eater?"

"My father is not a Death Eater." Kid stood with help from his weapons. He practically hissed at them, "I'm going to do that again, and this time there will be no blasting spells hitting the _extension of my soul_." The wizards nodded at his frigid tone, lowering their wands.

This time, the skull mask did not bounce, merely tilting to the side. "Er, you're not going to try that again, are you?"

Mundungus hastily shook his head. Dumbledore stepped forward, having watched the exchange with twinkling eyes.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts. I don't think you're in any danger from us unless you come through the mirror." He chuckled at his own joke.

"Nice to meet you, Albus. I am Death, but many add 'Lord' before it."

A slightly hysterical mumble came from Sirius: "Death the Kid, named after his father, Death. Creative."

"I suspect there's a reason for calling me?" Lord Death prompted.

Albus glanced around the room, taking in the troubled faces of his comrades. "I don't suppose you could remove your mask, first?"

"No."

Albus was taken aback at the deadpan reply, but went on, "I want to discuss the terms set by the phoenix to make sure it's understandable on both ends."

"It seems quite simple to me. These kids protect Harry while attending your school, and come back each summer until the kishin egg is dead."

"We're on the same page, then." Albus bowed to the mirror.

"I guess I'll be seeing you all next year! Bye, kids! I'll miss you, Kid!"

The connection ended, the image turning off like pressing the power button on a TV, and the mirror vanished.

"I need to know what classes you'll be taking." Albus addressed the kids, summoning a quill and parchment, which floated beside him as it waited to write. "Can I have your ages? The classes are decided by age."

"12!" Patty chirped.

"17," Liz said. Tsubaki said the same.

"13," Blackstar said.

"15," Soul and Maka chorused.

They then looked to Kid, who appeared to be thinking over the placement. "It would be best if I was placed with Soul and Maka."

Albus nodded. "You will receive your supply list and a list of electives you can take soon. In other news," he said, spreading his arms like he was about to reveal something, "I have nothing to report about Voldemort. Any progress in the fight against Voldemort?"

Everyone shook their heads and Albus sighed. "Meeting adjourned, then."

"Sleep!" Liz cried, running for the stairs.

* * *

><p>The rest of the month leading to September was largely uneventful. Cleaning went on, and if anyone cared for a midnight stroll, they would have found Kid picking up from where the day left off. Hermione had a chance to ask questions, but after a barrage of her chatter, Kid handed her a book that seemed more like fiction than reality to her. Kid kept answering her questions by nodding to the book, and the other Meisters and weapons smiled and shook their heads at her. Everyone went to Diagon Alley and bought supplies using funds that Lord Death had from years and years ago. (Blackstar tried to annoy Kid into translating Gobbledegook for them, after a goblin conversed with Kid in the goblin language.) Olivander supplied them with wands, and skipped over Kid when he showed his two. Even the boggart gave them no trouble on their last day.<p>

At the station they thought the extra precautions of the Order of the Phoenix were laughable, and ignored them and their silly code names. They spent the train ride going over each other's books and quizzing each other, so they left Harry at the mercy of another fifth year and a fourth year who had stared at them all like they were candy. The thestrals leading the carriages took a liking to Kid, and insisted on licking him the entire journey. McGonagall led them to the side, and they waited patiently while the first years were sorted. Then a great booming voice introduced them as students of the DWMA as part of a special education program, and they took that as their cue to enter.

Immediately the Great Hall filled with mutterings about their hair and dress styles. The DWMA group silently admired the floating candles and enchanted ceiling, appearing to anyone else like slabs of cold stone. They waited without word as each was called to place the ancient hat on their heads, making no displays of power as they walked forward. In a way, that made some observers disappointed, while others wondered just when they could gauge these foreigners. None of the newcomers suffered only a glance.

* * *

><p>When McGonagall cleared her throat to read from a new list once the first years were sorted, many did not expect to hear her call out, "Death."<p>

Nonetheless, a teen came forth from the group, ignoring the attention, never trembling under the stares and whispers. The Hat went on his head, and the minute that it lasted felt like a year before it placed Death at the Gryffindor table. The students of red and gold clapped sporadically, unsure how to react to this new housemate.

The attention was mitigated to the next to be called. "Albarn, Maka."

It settled the nerves that she had normal looks with a normal name, but it confused them that "Albarn" came after "Death." Why? Why was it so special? Maka joined the red and gold table, and they made sure to give her a warmer welcome than the first.

"Eater, Soul," gathered interest at the name, and awe at his appearance. A small buzz was made at one end of the Gryffindor table, but it was quieted. Hufflepuff cheered for their new housemate.

"Star, Blackstar" ran up to the Hat without yelling, seeming to revel in the attention. With all that pride and the ambition only a few of them had seen, it was no wonder he went to Slytherin.

"Nakatsukasa, Tsubaki" blushed at the lewd attention she gained from many of the boys. The warmest house gave her a comfortable welcome, and she sat next to Soul.

The last two were sisters, and their many similarities, despite the differences, made that obvious. Patty was saved for the very last as she watched her sister put a very large hat on her head, and sent to sit with Soul and Tsubaki. Patty ended the sorting with the Hat's cry of "Slytherin!"

Dumbledore said the yearly announcements and introduced the new DADA teacher. She interrupted him, and after her speech he continued on.

"Furthermore, we have a new class." Many ears perked up at this. "We decided to add in a class to teach what our transfer students learn at the DWMA. Their different kind of magic and what they do will be taught. Teaching this will be Professor Franken Stein and his assistant, Marie."

Students whispered and wondered around the Hall, and those raised in the muggle world muffled laughter at the familiar names. On cue, the giant doors flew open with a bang, causing many to shriek in surprise. A chair came squeaking down the middle of the Hall on wheels, the occupier grinning impossibly wide. He crashed in a heap in front of the head table, then picked himself up and sat next to a woman in yellow.

"This class will take place on Saturdays." There was a uniform groan from the student body at that proclamation, mourning the loss of sleeping in, and Dumbledore settled it with the appearance of the opening feast.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

Ages are based on physical height and mental maturity. If I was going by mentions in the manga, Blackstar would have been a year older than Maka. If you're wondering about Patty, let me put it this way: do any of you remember those few girls in fifth and sixth grade who were constantly called sluts and whores because puberty gave them giant boobs right off the bat? Yeah.

Kid: I imagined him having a conversation with the hat about immortal matters and where best to put him based on the others' personalities. To summarize: I was lazy.

Maka: She takes the courage and bravery thing seriously. Her view of her mother is all about bravery.

Soul and Tsubaki: They're weapons. They're supposed to be very loyal, and they are.

Blackstar: This is self-explanatory.

Liz: Liz and Patty aren't required to be necessarily loyal to the point of sacrificing their life, but I still decided on putting Liz in Hufflepuff. Patty's choice was a toss-up between Gryffindor and Slytherin. I kept switching her around so much before, during, and after writing this.


	5. You Think We're Nice? That's Cute

_E__dited as of 11/08/14_

Has anyone else read Soul Eater NOT yet? They have two pages where all Tsugumi thinks is 'eyes of gold' while staring into Kid's eyes. They have it covering half a page in giant bold text. Now look back at the title. I know, I'm awesome.

Now let's see how awesome I can make Hufflepuff.

* * *

><p><strong>Eyes of Gold<strong>

_Hufflepuff_

Soul wasn't exactly sure when, but it wasn't long after he sat down that he and the other two weapons relaxed at the gold and black table. Everyone chattered with warmth, fully immersing the three in their conversations in no time at all.

"I could get used to this," Soul commented after a while. Liz added her agreement. "It really isn't that bad getting used to things here. Everyone's so nice."

The few of their new classmates that overheard chuckled, but waved them off when they inquired. They shrugged it off and indulged in the food. It all had familiar ingredients they had in America, but they often asked the Hufflepuffs for explanations of the various English foods. Blood pudding, Yorkshire pudding, shepherd's pie, and a number of delicacies they refused to touch for the unappetizing names.

"So what do you think of Europe?" a Hufflepuff, Clarence, asked Soul.

"I haven't been out to see the sights, but this magic stuff is amazing."

"You lived as a muggle before this? In some ways, I envy you. After six years, the wonder has worn off-"

"I'll send you off to bed with these words: esq, hemagogue, and relitigating!"

"-except for that," the Hufflepuff said thoughtfully, fully ignoring Liz asking if the Headmaster was crazy.

They shuffled out of the Great Hall, following the fifth-year prefects, who introduced themselves as Ernie and Hannah. Once the Hufflepuffs had steered clear of the rest of the Houses, however, they all went in different directions. The first-years panicked, but stayed close to the prefects. Soul, Liz, and Tsubaki did the same, sticking out among the midgets. Soul, hunched over, was much shorter than Liz or Tsubaki, but still stuck out with his bright hair and lack of robes.

They walked. Then they passed a familiar painting. Soul noticed a burn mark on a wall that was identical to one they had seen earlier. They walked winding stairs that went on for maybe miles, but when Soul glanced out the window, they had neither gone up nor down, but a door appeared despite.

After a long period of confused silence, Ernie leaned over to whisper something to the other prefect. She giggled, and her words stretched over the group, chilling the first years. "They think we're nice? How cute."

The path took a sudden turn then. The first years were expectantly nervous by the previous statement, but the weapons watched them look around at classmates and decide to tough it out for everyone else. They continued with the group for curiosity's sake.

They stopped at a dead end. This increased confusion, as it was only a designing mishap that would result in a dead end. Students started speculating as soon as they remembered they were in a magic school.

The portrait on the wall is a door, one said.

They whispered, the door has to be magicked into existence.

This is a test to see if we're worthy, piped up another.

None of them expected the prefects to rotate the hand of the knight statue. The action activated a mechanism to open a gaping hole in the floor. Several people jumped back from the strangely human-shaped hole.

"This is the only kind of entrance we have to the Hufflepuff dorms. You'll land right-side-up if you fall at the correct angle. Turn to look behind you, and you'll bang your head on the floor."

To demonstrate, the prefects let themselves fall backwards into the hole. There was no scream, nor that horrible noise that meant they had suffered serious injury or death. Soul pushed to the front and peered down. After a long while, he stood and turned to everyone. He shrugged, opening his mouth to speak his thoughts, but stopped. His foot slipped; the student body lurched forward to help. A grin flashed across his face. Soul yelled in surprise.

Soul felt carpet under the soles of his shoes. An instant later, gold and black blurred in his vision as his shoes lost traction, and he gracefully landed on his rear. He displayed the height of his elegance by letting out a string of curses refined by living years in a city known for being quite morbid.

A low whistle. "Here in the wizarding world you can get pretty unique and unsavory, but that's got to be more creative than a bored pirate."

The much taller student who must have been in his seventh year of school helped Soul to his feet. They shook hands and the older introduced himself as Dirk Woodrow. "Don't think much of falling over. Half the students fall on every entrance, the other half somehow land on their feet and stay upright; I don't know how they do it." Dirk shrugged and gestured to a half circle of chairs surrounding the two prefects, who looked to have enjoyed his entrance. "Firsties and your group get a welcoming explanation to Hufflepuff. Sunday is the day we have no loyalty, so get up bright and early so I can see how good your school is."

Dirk playfully punched Soul on the shoulder and headed up the stairs. "Wait, what do you mean by that?" He laughed.

Soul took a seat by the prefects, confused. The two looked on at him with amusement. Before he could question them, more people started appearing in the common room.

Tsubaki and Liz were first in, and both fell with small yelps. Liz muttered a curse under her breath. As the first years appeared in, Soul noticed that who fell and who did not seemed entirely random. The location of where they appeared also struck him as random, but no two people landed in the same place, like raindrops.

The first years and weapons joined Soul around the prefects, and as the last student sat down, Hannah started to speak.

"Welcome to Hufflepuff, the House of loyalty, hard work, and patience. We come to each others' aid, no matter how trivial or self-sacrificing. While you are a member of this House, everyone will trust everyone else and, hopefully, never lie to each other. We have to uphold the standard of Hufflepuff for when we need to deceive."

Something about that last statement seemed out of place to Soul.

"That's why we have those entrances. If you didn't trust us, you would have landed on your face. We want you to be prepared; too many people think we're a load of duffers who are just here to be the school's punching bag. If you aren't a true Hufflepuff, you'll spend your years here in paranoia. We're building an army here, and even though it's slow going, we want to keep it swept under the rug."

Soul felt like he was being told a military secret just so they could erase it from his mind for whatever secret reason later. It had that kind of mind-numbing effect.

"Hufflepuff House just asks that you keep our training regimes and the occasional plan secret. Every Hufflepuff has the entire House behind them if ever need be. It's a lot of hard work, and you'll need patience if you expect to see any results, and loyalty to keep this whole thing together." Hannah clapped her hands. "Okay! Ernie will now tell you about the normal stuff."

What.

* * *

><p><em>Slytherin<em>

"That's all. Are there any questions or anything someone else wants to say-"

"YAHOO! I'M THE GREAT BLACKSTAR! I WILL SURPASS GOD!"

This proclamation had many students falling out of the chairs they had cozied into, and one or two whipped their heads around, forgetting where they were. Several of the higher years raised from their seats, gritting their teeth and clenching their wands in warning. One student, however, stood stiff as a board. He walked with purpose straight to the upstart and grabbed his arm midstride. The blue-haired foreigner allowed himself to be pulled away, even throwing in taunts for a fight. The other students relaxed again, letting that problem be anyone else's problem.

"Bye bye!" The other new Slytherin from the DWMA leaned over the back of a chair to wave at her friend, free from any worrying about whether Blackstar was going to be pummeled or not. A prefect, the one who had explained Slytherin House to the first years, turned to her with a scowl marring his face.

"Are you going to claim anything equally outrageous?" he asked. The aristocratic faces scattered around the room remained elegant porcelain; their eyes drifted from books and letters crumpled with anxiety, gleaming with a chance for twisting any words further spoken for future advantage.

The girl shook her head, her hat sliding to a lopsided position. "Nope. What's your name?"

"I am Draco, the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. Pureblood. I can track my family tree back for 500 years." Many in the room felt a spark of pride as they mentally repeated their own title and how old they knew their family to be. Among nobles, it denoted rank above all else, how much grandiose to give someone, and, many snidely added in their minds, how much you could get away with.

"Wow, really?" The girl made an awed sound, and that made many eyes narrow and smirks to tug at practiced lips. She then spoke fast and excited, raising red flags to everyone listening. "I only know who my mom is. I'm not sure who my dad is or was, and mom and Liz never told me anything about any grandparents or great-grandparents, but we've been practically adopted into Kid's family. Well, that's what we call him, anyway. He was introduced as Death, but since that's his father's name, he usually goes by Death the Kid. Since my sis and me were adopted into his family, does that mean his ancestry is now mine?"

Draco paused to absorb this information and make sense of enough of it to form a reply. His classmates waited for him to open his mouth, already forming ideas of how to approach this girl.

"Yes," he finally said. The girl tapped her chin. The spectators waited for Draco to say more, but for once, he had the sense not to brag or insult. The name of Death was enough to silence even him.

"That means my family goes back for three thousand years!"

That excited proclamation widened eyes and slackened jaws. Heads whirled around, but the little enigma only smiled and giggled. Perhaps it was fortunate that Blackstar and Clarence came back at that time.

Clarence grumbled to himself and plopped into a cushy chair in the corner. One of his classmates smirked and asked, "What happened? You gave him the rundown you always do with those muggleborns, so how did he react?"

Clarence looked away, watching the puzzling girl and Draco, who seemed to be having a whispered conversation. "I told him, as with all the rest, that the Bible says that magic is all evil, but since he can do magic and he's been shown good points of magic, then the Bible must be wrong and God doesn't exist."

"And his reaction? You're looking disappointed, so I'm guessing he got over his spiritual crisis fast?"

With a sigh, Clarence gestured to the entrance, which at that moment opened. Blackstar walked in, yelled that he will surpass God, and went up the boys' dorms. A sixth year turned around to look at the two, a grin that showed her delight in having the upper hand on her face.

"The DWMA students have a different religion, nitwits. They don't have a Bible."

* * *

><p><em>Griffindor<em>

Maka snuggled under her covers, relishing the feel of tension leaving her body as she relaxed in the soft cocoon. Her mind buzzed to a murmur. Nothing mattered besides the soothing thrum of her heartbeat and soul. Her soul wrapped up in itself, like a blanket, a blanket that warmed her and left an empty void.

Maka sat upright. Soul.

She usually slept with Soul sleeping in the room opposite, and, the thought bringing a blush to her cheeks, their souls sleeping together. She missed Soul already, on their first night, and they were in the same castle! Gingerly, she spread out her Soul Perception. The Hufflepuff dorms were kept secret from Griffindors, but they could very well be nearby.

Sleepy souls untouched by taint and alien to any soul exercises surrounded her, each one young and innocent. They had the purity of never seeing bloodshed, never fighting for your life, never feeling that rush of adrenaline, never holding a lethal weapon; a purity similar to, and yet different, to her angel soul. Searching up, Maka found older souls, lightly touched with grief and experiences of life. Off to the side, she sensed the boys' souls, rougher in personality, along with Harry's soul. Down, she found younger souls, and eventually she hit an unknown. A soul hummed, clearly still awake. It stretched as though the person did yoga with their soul. It was unfamiliar, a soul she was sure she had never met before. It had a pale, minty green color, a cute color in Maka's opinion.

Maka rolled out of the warmth of bed, and slipped on slippers that magically appeared. She tip-toed down the spiral stairs and peeked into the common room in the direction of the alien soul. Two gold eyes filled with confusion stared at her.

"Ah, I'm sorry for disturbing you, Kid!" Maka jumped back in surprise as she said this, knocking her head on the stone wall. She clamped her hand to the back of her head, but finding no blood and still able to see, her flustered apology continued, "I was just feeling lonely because I couldn't feel Soul's wavelength so I tried looking for him with my Soul Perception and then I sensed an unfamiliar soul-"

Maka cut off as Kid's hand landed on her shoulder. "I should be the one apologizing. I didn't mean to raise you from your bed. I thought you had noticed before that my soul had changed."

Kid's soul changing was nothing new to Maka. Unlike with humans, whose souls stayed the same from birth to death, Kid's soul steadily grew larger and would habitually change color. When they had first met, Kid's soul was red; fighting the kishin it burst into blue when he connected one of his Sanzu lines; now it had changed again, to a mint green.

Maka frowned. "Everyone was together all day; why would I use Soul Perception? You should have told me. We could have gotten separated at any time, regardless of any safety precautions, and then how would I find you again? And don't say you'd be with Liz and Patty. A little paranoia is healthy."

Kid frowned. "Maka." His tone was firm. "My soul changing is a very personal thing for me; a sign of growing up. Instead of my body changing through chemicals and hormones like a human, my soul changes."

"Oh," Maka mumbled, coloring. The aalogy hit home for her, and she decided she definitely wouldn't like to inform anyone else of her monthly visitor. Eager for a chance to change the subject away from her embarrassment, she asked, "What were you doing down here so late?"

Maka snatched something from the air as it came flying toward her. A rag. "Cleaning."

Typical Kid. Maka smiled. She started wiping the edge of a portrait, one of a wizard in red robes sleeping, barely clinging to his broom as it whizzed without direction through the sky background. "Is there no one here to do that for the students? This place seems like a school that would do something like that."

"There are magical creatures here called House Elves. They were born of human and magic, and now live off of a magic generated when they do work at the command of another being. They're too far detached from their original human selves to be detected with even your Soul Perception. You said you couldn't feel Soul?"

Maka sighed at the abrupt shift in topic. "Yes. Usually I can sense him, since his room is near mine and we go everywhere together. But the castle is so __big.__"

"If it's any consolation, I can sense Soul from here. He's perfectly alright."

Maka whipped her head to stare at Kid, halting in her cleaning. Kid continued dusting a carved wooden leg of a table. "Professor Stein said my Soul Perception was the best out of all of the students-"

"He would be right. I can sense over a wider distance than you, but it's more difficult for me to pinpoint souls and identify them."

Maka shrugged, regardless of whether Kid could see the action or not. The simple motion of cleaning was lulling her to relaxation. "That takes a burden off my shoulders. I'm glad you were sorted here too, Kid. I miss Soul, but I would go mad if I was all alone here."

Snoring portraits covered the sounds of household chores, until Maka failed to smother a long yawn. Kid took the rag from her hand, replacing it with his own hand. He waited until she decided her eyes could focus enough to guide her to bed, and they said goodnight.

* * *

><p><em>Author's Notes<em>

All of the scenes go in immediate chronological order.

We don't see much of Hufflepuff in the books, and one little quote I saw associated with Hufflepuff online inspired me with this crazy idea to make them somewhat unhinged. "You think we're cute? That's nice." Now Hufflepuff is creating an army and is more prepared for a war than the rest of the wizarding world.

Dirk's name was found on a random name generator. I almost named him Aubrey. His name has no significance...or does it?

Clarence's 'talk' with Blackstar is not intended to offend anyone, and in no way reflects my own beliefs. It's only someone thinking that whenever someone mentions a 'god' it automatically means the Christian god. It's the close-minded atheistic view on things (not all atheists are like this). There are glaring holes in Clarence's 'talk'. Go ahead and think whatever you want about religion and Soul Eater.

Last part, I intended for it to have a little SoulxMaka fluff with Maka missing Soul, but then I didn't intend for it to turn into KidxMaka fluff by the end. Which pairing will prevail? I might decide at some point. There will be no really intimate moments, no erotica, no sappy lovey-dovey feelings that will really annoy you.


	6. The First Day

_E__dited as of 11/14/14_

* * *

><p><strong>Eyes of Gold<strong>

The next morning, Maka woke up refreshed and early. Even once she got to the Common Room, only a few people were up. Kid was still cleaning, but appeared to have gone to bed at some point- he was wearing robes instead of his Academy uniform. Kid had somehow escaped the asymmetry of the colored Gryffindor crest on the left side of his robes. Instead, at the collar of his robes was his small metal skull, fashioned on like a tie. On Maka's uniform, the crest had been replaced with a patch with a picture of Lord Death's mask.

Maka alerted Kid to her presence by snapping her fingers in front of his face, eliciting a look of annoyance over being treated as a common dog. Tidbits of speech trailed to them from a group of young girls by the window. The lone speaker had long red hair which swayed and whipped as she emphatically explained her idea to her sleepy friends. She used wild gestures to get her point across, her emotions shifting without reason between joy and sadness, making it impossible for Maka to piece together any summary if anyone had asked one from her. Maka paid no mind to them, and proceeded to drag Kid away from the fireplace, breaking his security-blanket-like hold on his cleaning rag with a sudden yank.

Out the door she walked, the door closing behind them. At first Maka whirled around, alarmed, until she saw the pink-clothed lady and recalled that the painting had sentience. Kid stopped to figure out her reason for her sudden action, but she continued without a word, leaving him to catch up.

Maka lost herself in the scenery around her. Paintings lined the ancient stone walls, stacked side by side and up frame by frame. Each depicted a unique scene or portrait, painted in oils, acrylics and watercolor, done on board or canvas. Some depicted a regal visage, others a simple gathering around a table. Most whispered amongst themselves, casting glances to the two wandering foreigners. Several talked openly about the lack of a House crest. It was by an astounding miracle that none commented on Kid's hair. It was at some point that Maka realized they were lost.

Maka turned to ask Kid if he knew where they might be, but found him walking at a faster pace than she, stopping at every frame to straighten it, giving much insight as to how he might have been distracted from mentally mapping their path.

"Excuse me," Maka asked politely of a portrait, putting aside her frustration at the absurd circumstance, "But do you know the way to the Great Hall?" Kid reached for the painting- Maka slapped his hand away.

Eventually they found their way to the Great Hall. By that time, the majority of students had finished breakfast and gone to class. The girl from earlier arrived at the same time as them, and gasped, evidently realizing how long her speech had gone on. She ran up and down the Hufflepuff table, looking for something, but ended up sitting down at the Gryffindor table, dejected.

Maka and Kid sat with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Harry looked up from his eggs to hand them both a slip a paper, explaining, "We held onto these for you."

A few words of thanks from the two polite students, and they looked over their new schedules, Maka's tongue clicking as she reviewed each period. History of Magic declared itself as first priority, starting in a short time that morning. Maka almost groaned, but instead covered up her dejection with a light breakfast. "When we're done eating, can you show us to the History of Magic classroom?"

"Of course," chirped Hermione. "When we have time, could you tell me what to expect of the new class?"

"That's a secret," Kid cut in, the answer automatic since Hermione had started asking the moment it had been revealed Hogwarts had a new class.

Maka had no clues as to what Stein and Mary would teach these kids, and even though her curiosity was bubbling over, the temptation of a surprise was too good, even if it turned out Stein would be teaching them how to vivisect endangered magical creatures. Maka wasn't sure why she felt so lighthearted this day; any other day she would probably be pestering just as much to find out what was in store for them. When they finished their breakfast, Maka glanced around the Hall to find, to her disappointment, none of her friends.

The trio led them to their first class, taught by the ghost teacher, Professor Binns. Maka had seen more ghosts at dinner and breakfast, so she was more fascinated with watching than worrying how it was there.

The ghost launched into a lecture. Slowly, with all deliberate speed, the class got out note-taking supplies. After a few minutes wrapping her head around the words, Maka discovered the professor was talking about some sort of magical war. Maka tried to concentrate, but lost track quickly. She looked around the rest of the class. Hermione dutifully took notes like mad, whipping her head up and down between teacher and paper. Harry and Ron played hangman on a loose scrap of parchment. Several others played cards, slept, or read. Even Kid seemed to have trouble concentrating.

Giving up on the class, Maka whispered to Kid, "How are ghosts here? I mean, what are they? They're not souls like I know them."

Kid gave up his notes with a final sigh, not directed to Maka, but to the lecture. Whispering quietly, he explained, "They lived at one point or another, but their souls have already moved on to the afterlife. Ghosts are an 'echo' of their souls, acting out the souls' subconscious. In Patty's words, they're sleepwalking..."

* * *

><p>The bell rang: Binns floated back through the chalkboard, students yawned and checked schedules, and much groaning was had after this last action.<p>

"So how was your first History of Magic class here?" Hermione asked the Meisters, as they collected their books and yawned their way out the door. She shot Harry and Ron filthy looks and threatened, in a whisper, to refuse to let them see her notes. They evidently hadn't hidden their hangman game well enough.

"The material is interesting, but Binns isn't the best professor to teach it," Kid said, ignoring the boys' pleas to Hermione not to indulge in her threat.

"I'm sure our next class will be more immersive," Maka added. A dark-haired girl turned a corner toward them, and once she spotted them, her steps hesitated and she shied away.

"Good luck with that," Harry groaned, oblivious to the nervous girl. "We have Potions next."

Kid grimaced. "I had a few weeks of tutoring in Potions. I dropped it when I learned it wouldn't be of much use to me."

"Hey, I don't have as much experience as that. What's wrong with Potions anyway?"

"__Snape__teaches it," Ron said, spitting the name. "He hates us, especially Harry."

"He's horrible," Harry agreed, nodding.

Hermione hesitated to speak badly of a professor. "I admit he's biased, but..."

"He hates Gryffindors," Harry stressed to the Meisters.

"Why?" Maka asked, visions going through her head of scalpels flying at high speeds and a certain man with a screw loose.

Harry shrugged. "He goes after me the most. He almost never takes any points from Slytherin. He's a Death Eater, but Dumbledore says he's innocent."

The two nodded in interest. "So where's Potions class?" Maka asked, noting they had been going down the levels in the castle.

"The dungeons," Harry supplied. "It's like he does everything he can to make us think he's evil."

"What's he like?"

"He's a greasy old bat-"

Ron was cut off with a loud explosion. A rainbow of sparkles burst forth from a room several feet in front of them, accompanied by shouts and a distant laughing voice. A dominating voice yelled, "Out! Out! Fifty points from Slytherin! Class dismissed!"

Third-year students raced out the door, hair splotched with light blue. A flushed Gryffindor ran back in, coming out with a pile of books as though chased by a bat, the tail end of his robes fizzing like soda. The raucous laughter still came from within. Within seconds, the source of the laughter emerged running, blue hair looking spikier than usual with raging shouts following him.

He ran right out to Kid and Maka shouting, "Potions class is awesome!"

"Mr Star!" The last shout was given, then a shuddering sigh.

Hermione gaped. Maka stared and snickered. Kid stared, no doubt ruffled by the lack of symmetry. Ron and Harry were less subtle in their amusement.

"Blimey, look at his hair!" Ron choked out, falling over himself with laughter. Harry spluttered on his laughter, a mix of shock, horror, and humour at Snape's blue-spotted hair.

The professor pointed to them with a disgusting sneer. "Twenty points from Gryffindor!" He stalked back in the classroom, his robe billowing, an effect that was much dampened by the hem stained blue.

A third-year poked his head from behind the group, having hid there. "I've never seen Snape take points from his own House before. Everyone will be talking about it for the rest of the year!"

* * *

><p>After a boring class of reading about theory concerning when to use defensive spells, the Golden Trio plus two trudged back to the Great Hall, Ron's rumbling stomach constantly reminding them of their destination. Harry joined them soon after the class let out, grumbling that he had detention in answer to Hermione's worried glance. Kid and Maka had somehow remained silent all through Professor Umbrage's lecture, even when her tirade was pointedly aimed at insulting them. It would not be good to get in any teacher's bad graces. Of course, that was now a moot point since Blackstar decided to sabotage as much work as possible in Potions class.<p>

Soul's soul popped up in the Great Hall to Maka's senses, cheering her up despite their most recent class. She stepped toward the Hufflepuff table, a greeting to Soul on her lips. That died as the red-haired girl from earlier breezed past her, the soft chant of, "Soul, Soul, Soul, Soul," stopping her in her tracks.

The tiny girl bounced with positive anxiety as her eyes tore up and down the Hufflepuff table, stopping as her excitement finally peaked with a squeak. She tipped herself up on tiptoes, and nearly fell over before bouncing again. She ran up to Soul, attacking him with a hug that emptied his lungs and dropped the fork from his hand.

"Soul!" the girl squealed, the Hufflepuff table watching with grins. The Academy students watched with wide eyes and gaping mouths, struck dumb by the display. "I've missed you so much, big brother!"

Hermione, oblivious to the shocked stares, commented, "I didn't know Alana was Soul's sister. Why didn't you say anything?"

* * *

><p>Vivasection: Dissection of a living creature under heavy anesthesia. Charles Darwin, growing senile in his old age, heavily supported the idea, but it was outlawed.<p>

The 'Academy uniform' is just their normal clothing. In Soul Eater NOT, Maka explains to Tsugumi that the DWMA has a uniform, but the uniform is chosen from a selection of over 400 tops and bottoms, and a casual top can be paired with a uniform bottom. In short, it's very customizable and pretty much just a convoluted way of instilling a proper dress code. The headmaster of the school is Kid's father, so of course Kid can wear whatever he likes (along with his weapons). So instead of using DWMA, I'll just use Academy since it would be less of a hassle to say.

The "all deliberate speed" is a quote from a law passed in the USA that told Southern schools to desegregate with "all deliberate speed". They complied at a deliberate speed of very slow.

At breakfast, Ron says that the day is Monday in the book, but on a calendar of September, 1995, September second is a Tuesday. Since there are plot points that rely heavily on the date, I'll be following the calendar, but I know this is gonna mess me up someday. And nowhere did it mention when lunch was; it was just dinner after DADA. EDIT: IT MESSED ME UP! Changes have been made on the 'Tuesday' gaff for future chapters.

Alana the OC: I told you something would happen with Soul. This was a character who'd been planned since the start of the story. She is, indeed, Soul's sister. I had all of my information written out in notebook, the name, appearance, personality...at least I thought I did. I can't find the information anymore. So I improvised, and made up on the spot everything that was missing, even her name.


	7. Plot, Meet Side Plot Alana

Disclaimer: I do not own Soul Eater or Harry Potter. Alana is my own creation, as is Dirk and the 'Hufflepuff Army'.

*screams in frustration and tears at hair* Readers, I am dreadfully sorry. Last chapter I said that lunch wasn't mentioned. I just realized it was. Well, at least I managed to make the scene fit anyway. I'm really slacking in typing up my notes for this story. I have tons of scenes typed up, but my outline has a big empty space for chapters 8-11. And I already created an inconsistency there because of the Tuesday-Monday error, so I don't know if I have to bump something up or back a chapter. And then that further complicates things because of an event that must take place on specifically chapter 13.

There is an inconsistency here, so pretty much the calendar skipped over a day at some point. I've accidently made it really complicated.

Every day I get at least three alert adds and favorites for this story. You're spamming my email. It's getting annoying.

* * *

><p>"Al-Alana?" Soul stuttered, his face an ashen white. Maka's mind reeled. Soul didn't stutter. Even when Maka occasionally caught Blair 'playing' with him, she had never seen Soul as uncomposed as this. "What are you doing here!"<p>

The girl, now dubbed Alana, did not release him from her hold. "I got my letter two years ago. Is that why you left? Mommy and Daddy took the news very well, ya know."

At the mention of their parents, Soul's eyes turned dark. "They thought on of their precious trophies deserved a prize? They didn't want another trophy to leave them for good?" The venom he put into the word trophy stuck out to Maka. this side of Soul was a new revelation to her. She saw the smiles slipping from the faces of spectators.

Alana's smile faltered and her arms slackened. "Brother-"

Soul pushed her arms away and stormed past Maka. He kept his head down, but Maka felt the deep betrayal in his soul.

Alana and many of the students watched him go. A few stood, but were returned to their seats with shaking heads.

Dinner was a gloomy affair.

* * *

><p>Liz stumbled into the Common Room, willing herself not to fall asleep on the carpet. She groaned. So many classes, and the professors worked their students to the bone! Each one had quizzed her and Tsubaki relentlessly, drilling them on spells they had only heard of a mere week ago, in consecutive levels of complexity. On theory she had managed to get the majority of the questions correct, but she still fumbled with her wand when it came to casting. In Liz's opinion, Tsubaki had done well in both parts, but the multi-weapon was too stressed with everything to notice.<p>

Liz was just glad they didn't have to take Potions. Instead, they had a free period to catch up with the rest of their classmates. Liz had used that time to see what she was missing, and found a dungeon cell darker and creepier than any room in Gallows Mansion, headed by a vampire stalking through the rows of scared silent students, imposing such a threatening aura that the students worked to the bone lest they displease such a creature. Liz did not loiter long.

Liz dragged herself up to her feet, noticing only now that the Common Room had emptied of everyone higher than first years, save herself, Soul, and Tsubaki. One other exception sat near the fireplace, a friendly smile directed to all of them, although the fire dancing with the shadows made it seem like a mad grin.

Dirk clapped his hands and called for all first years and transfers. A spell had apparently been cast to enhance his voice (Liz would wearily inform the writer that it was _sonorous_), and the first years trickled down from the dorms.

"Alright. Now, midgets and ladies-" Soul muttered an insult right back. "-you are about to be revealed Hufflepuff's biggest secret. The secret itself has a spell on it, so it's impossible to tell anyone not in our dorm or isn't a Hufflepuff about it. As the prefects told you, we're building an army here. That's part of the secret, but don't worry; we don't plan on going to war against anyone. Despite what everything might imply, we're just readying you for dangerous situations. Follow me."

The students followed Dirk a short distance to a portrait of a seventh year student from 1639 of the name Aubrey Elwin. The plaque below gave no information about him other than a name and year. Dirk introduced him.

"This is Aubrey Elwin the third, winner of the Hufflepuff competition in 1639, and for the five years prior to that."

Aubrey smirked at all of the gathered students, lording over their gazes with all of the cheek he probably believed the number after his name entitled him to.

"He acts like a Slytherin at times, but he's worked hard to get his picture here." Dirk pulled on the side of the portrait, pulling it from the wall like a door with a slack handle. "There's no password, so if you need to burn off some energy in the middle of the night or Aubrey's taking a nap, you can go in whenever. That piece of information may seem useless to you, but portraits with passwords are common in Hogwarts. The entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room is a portrait, and the only way in is a password or many threats while the portrait inhabitant is awake and present."

Dirk led the way in, down a winding staircase, and in to a well-lit room. A first year said, "Wow," and it echoed, but was swallows up in the rest of the noise.

It was a training room. A running track a mile long made up the majority of the space, surrounded by exercise machines, weights, dumbbells, and every other piece of exercise equipment one could think of. On one wall, lined up on racks, was a wide array of pointy and blunt weapons. To the side of that was what Liz assumed to be practice wands, staves, and wooden blades. Targets were scattered randomly, some of them moving, some of them even disappearing and appearing elsewhere. Liz could spot a few on the walls and the ceiling. The missing Hufflepuffs smiled at the appearance of the group, momentarily distracted from their exercises. There was no exercise none of them were currently immersed in. Surprisingly, quite a few of the older students trained with the weapons. Two of them dueled with dulled swords, and one took the chance when everyone was distracted to knock down his partner.

Dirk directed their attention back to him. "This is where we train our army. The others will help you and instruct you. Now for Sunday." A mean glint entered his eyes, and the friendly smile turned menacing. "Sunday is every man for himself day. Every Hufflepuff is forced to participate. Other Houses aren't allowed to know about this. We hold a competition, lasting the whole day, and whomever meet with Professor Sprout at midnight in the Common Room wins. That's your goal on Sunday: stay undisfigured, uninjured, awake, and aware enough to meet with Professor Sprout without making any of the other Houses aware of anything. I am the current title holder of winner, and won almost all of the competitions in the second half of last year. We'll tell you all of the rules on Sunday. First years are exempt until after Christmas break, but you'll still want to know everything ahead of time."

The first years relaxed at the last sentence, relieved that they didn't have to fight without knowing any spells or martial arts. Soul looked put out that he couldn't participate. "Of course, the foreigners have to compete for the first half of the year."

Soul smirked. Liz wasn't too worried, but she knew that Tsubaki would be worried about it being on a school night. The professors piled them with work.

Dirk stared at them, his face suddenly the picture of confusion. "Why are you all standing there?" A smile twitched at his lips. "You should be training!"

The students ran off to play on the exercise machines. They ambled mindlessly at first, then the older students directed them to locker rooms, where they changed into clothes they could easily move about it. Soon the only students left in their uniform were the ones practicing magic or practicing with long-range weapons. With teases at Dirk for 'not telling the little firsties about warm-ups', the older years corralled them into a group again to explain stretches to them. After stretching their growing little muscles, some of the first years left to go to bed and look at their books. The rest of them finally milled about to look at the machines and whatchamacallits, receiving instructions from the older students. There were a few yelps of pain as little-used muscles were pulled. The three DWMA students made a beeline for the wall of weapons after the warm-up session. Their blood pumped in their ears, bringing manic smiles to their faces. The past few weeks had near driven them stir crazy with no physical outlet. They lifted weapons off the racks, the blades dulled by age and lack of sharpening.

Dirk joined them, taking a dagger in one hand and his wand in the other. Soul pulled away a scythe, easily testing the balance of the heavy weapon, scaring a few of the nearly wide-eyes Hufflepuffs. Liz smiled as a grin made its way onto his face. This was the perfect way to cheer him up after the fiasco at dinner. Tsubaki found a pair of chain-scythes, and was suddenly regarded with much more respect than at the feast the previous night.

Liz grumbled a bit at the selection, bemoaning the lack of modern firearms. She supposed she could deal with firing bullets from a wand for any fights if Patty wasn't around. That is, when she learned how to do that. She sighed, and searched the racks for anything Kid had made her wave around before. Liz finally lifted a rapier from it's rack, after staring dubiously at an ancient sword inlaid with so many jewels it would have been impossible to lift. Her classmates did not stare long, having expected something like that. Her fellow weapons, however, stared at her, not expecting her to pick up such an elegant weapon. Liz snorted. "What did you expect me to choose?"

They considered her question seriously, their eyes running through the variety of weapons before coming back to Liz, still confused.

"_Kid_," she stressed the name, and comprehension dawned on them.

"Hey, Soul!" The three looked at Dirk, who'd already worked up a sweat sparring with Hannah. "Up for a spar?"

Soul kept grinning. Dirk gave him a minute to get a feel for the scythe. Soul spun the scythe like a windmill, and swung it a few times, taking the same stance Maka would take with him in hand. Liz's shoulders shook with laughter in amusement. Despite that the Meister would do the fancy acrobatics, the weapon learned alongside their Meister. The tool carried the same weight of duty as the master.

* * *

><p>Meister: German for master.<p>

You may have noticed the lack of copying and pasting of the book. That's because I'm getting a bit fed up with reading it over and over in HP crossovers. So it's best to have read the book before reading this.

So we have a mystery about Kid's sleepiness and curiosity in the second chapter to find out. No, of course I'm not purposely introducing a side plot about Soul to distract you, who do you think I am? No, don't look back at the story summary - you still need to find out Stein's secret!


	8. A Movie Star Visits Hogwarts

The OC Alana: Some people hate OCs that are related to a main character. I'm one of them. This is just a ridiculous idea I'm hitting you in the face with.

Disclaimer: I'm an idiot that can't keep days straight. I recently recieved some very inspirational reviews from a reader, so hopefully I'll be working on this more often.

The real Tuesday.

* * *

><p>Dumbledore's trained eye read over the document again, checking for any 'between the lines' subtext he may have missed in his first reading. His mouth was stuck in a blank line, refusing to frown and having little reason to smile.<p>

The legal rights of gnomes was an inconsequential matter to the Wizengamot, but all the same, they had asked Dumbledore to review this new law. It was a step in the right direction for non-wizard rights. That they had not put any derogatory terms in the document was also a plus.

His clock chimed for the eighth hour. Dumbledore gathered the files together and set them aside, his grandfatherly smile returning to his face. Right as his clock chimed for the eighth time, a sharp knocking came at the door. Making little effort to hide his amusement, Dumbledore greeted the student with, "Come in, my boy."

One of the foreign students walked in, posture straight and hands tucked behind his back, giving an appearance of power. "You asked to see me, sir?"

Dumbledore gave a nod for him to take a seat. "Yes, I actually wanted to inform you of a location of interest. The students tend to avoid it because of rumours surrounding the place, but it has the capability to hold a dangerous creature from being released on the students."

Dumbledore watched the student's body language and facial expressions carefully. He could have talked to a different member of their group, but he couldn't expect them to tell their ringleader when the Houses barely had any time to get together and discuss. Another possible problem was if the secret wasn't shared within their group. They had a strict sense of loyalty between them. Why risk tearing that apart by revealing a secret that wasn't even Dumbledore's to tell?

"The entrance is guarded by the Whomping Willow. By touching the knot of roots at the base of the tree, the branches will stop long enough for someone to run in." Dumbledore paused for a breather. Old age and all that rot. Death the Kid's expression did not change, although his gold eyes were no longer focused on the headmaster. A sign that he was thinking about it.

"A locking spell on the door will prevent any dark creatures from escaping, granted that they can't use a wand. It's long ago been warded to be a powerful cage."

There. Something in his eyes had changed. Dumbledore relaxed, knowing he had gotten his point across. "The students call it the Shrieking Shack, since long ago strange sounds would come from it, and that a malicious ghost haunted it. Lemon drop?"

They both took a candy from the tin, Kid with a polite thanks. Dumbledore didn't break stride with his offer.

Dumbledore smoothly ended the conversation there. He said what felt like a repeated order, "Keep a close eye on Harry," and sent him on his way.

Dumbledore did not know how to deal with that alias; Death the Kid. He refused to call a child any name relating to death. The rest of the teachers had similar problems, no doubt.

* * *

><p>When Professor Umbridge walked in the classroom, she did not say "wands away" or start lecturing, or even ask if everyone had the required textbook. Instead, she rapped on the blackboard for silence, her midget wand sending out angry red sparks. Her teeth stomped down on her every word.<p>

"I have had enough of this nonsense!" The Hufflepuffs cringed under her seething anger.

"First it was Death! Ridiculous, inane; what kind of freak calls himself Death? There'd be a law if I could help it! Next was Blackstar! Honestly!" Umbridge continued ranting, unaware of the Hufflepuffs turning to stare at the one student that committed such a crime as having an out-of-place name. The culprit ignored them and stared at Umbridge as she listed of his friends' names, his stare composed of bewilderment.

"Now. Now, I have to deal with a Soul Eater! Wands away!" she finally snapped, and the few students that still had wands out scrabbled to put them away.

"You," Umbridge sneered, pointing at Soul with her free hand, picking out his out-of-place hair and skull crest, "must be Soul Eater. I've had enough of your friends."

She took a deep breath, and her voice turned into an attempt to sound sweet and persuading. "You know what? I've had enough. Choose a name, a normal name, and that will be your name in this class. Choose something."

Soul said the first name that came to mind, off of a movie poster he once saw in passing while on an assignment: "Johnny Depp." A few students nearly fell of their chairs in laughter, but Umbridge didn't seem to notice. Her smile did not relax.

"Thank you." Umbridge turned back to the blackboard, tapping it to start her lecture on the OWLs. "Oh, and Mr Depp?" A few students giggled. She waved her wand, and a quill wrote out a letter and it sealed itself in a pink envelope. The bright paper floated over to land on Soul's desk. "Take that to Professor Sprout."

Soul left before any more was said, happy for any chance to get out of Defence early.

He took three left turns and went down a flight of stairs before he realized he had no idea where Mrs Sprout's office was, and that he was lost. Soul wasn't overly concerned. Instead, he finally unsealed the letter - which in his mind, should have been done a staircase and three turns ago - to read the note, all of it in so much pink it was frightening.

"I have detention for 'disrupting the class'?"

* * *

><p>I'm starting to skip a bit of time in the books. Not days, just scenes of classes. This might mess me up, might mess you up, might be non-detrimental to both of us. I'm negecting Alana in this chapter. I forget what I was going to do with her, and how.<p> 


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